Before the Battle
by HappyBark
Summary: Somewhere in the quiet before the battle of Ostagar, Alistair and Duncan find some space to talk. Alistair can't seem to keep his mind from Duncan's returning dreams. Discussed (mild) Alistair/F!Tabris.


Alistair couldn't sleep. This was hardly unusual. Between the nightmares and, well, the_ other_ nightmares, it was rare for him to get a night that was close to restful these days. Not since the start of the Blight. Besides, it was much warmer besides the Grey Warden campfire than in his bedroll during the chilly Ostagar night.

For a single moment he thought he heard something move behind him. When he turned his head to look around the campsite, however, he saw nothing but shadows and the snoring figures of those who chose to disregard the common sense notion of shielding themselves from the weather with a tent.

"Imagining things again," Alistair muttered to himself as he turned back to the fire. "No wonder people have trouble taking me seriously."

"I always thought that was from all the jokes," said a voice beside him.

Alistair jumped, instinctively scooting away. Then, composing himself, he smiled as he realised who it was.

"Duncan!" he said. "You don't half move quietly for someone of your build."

"You forget that I use to be a thief," he replied. Then he gave a rare half-smile, "And what are you implying with 'of my build'? I did see the amount you put away at dinner."

"I didn't mean - " Alistair blushed and looked at his feet. "You just surprised me."

"I apologise," Duncan replied. "The others will need their rest for tomorrow, and I didn't wish to wake anyone. Especially not her."

Duncan nodded back to the large tent that, among other, he and Alistair had set out their bedrolls. The new recruit - the elf woman - had chosen to sleep near both of them. However unsurprising this seemed to be to Duncan, it was something that made Alistair happier than he liked to admit.

"She was sleeping so soundly when I left," Alistair said. "It wouldn't surprise me if she needs the cold water treatment in the morning. Now me, I was tossing and turning and up and down all night after my joining."

"I remember," Duncan said sternly. "I was there. You weren't the only one who barely slept that night."

Alistair snorted with laughter, "I hardly see why you're blaming me."

If amusement flickered across Duncan's face then it was gone as soon as it came. This just made Alistair resolve to try harder.

"So," he said. "I heard she's never been out of Denerim before now. Is that true?"

"That's true," Duncan replied. "And I suspect she told you that."

"And you took her all the way out here," Alistair continued, ignoring Duncan's accusatory tone. "She's beyond everything she's ever knew, and you just chucked her in some darkspawn-infested wilderness with me for company. She'd probably never even seen a tree before, you mean man."

Duncan sighed and stretched his boot-clad feet towards the fire. "She'd seen trees before, Alistair," he said, exasperation apparent in his voice. "Trust me."

"And soldiers!" Alistair continued, oblivious, with mock wide eyes. "Had she met a soldier before today? She's probably lying awake wondering who all these people are and why they have such a taste for metal clothing."

"One of the King's guards rather brashly suggested giving her some, let us say, specialised night-time training earlier," Duncan said.

"He did?" Alistair replied, wide eyes real this time. "And what did she - ? I mean - " He tailed off with a vague hand gesture.

"She told him that she'd remove the appendage he was thinking with using a rusty knife," Duncan replied. "But only if he tried anything, I think. So I very much doubt you need to look so worried."

"Worried?" Alistair said lightly. "I'm not worried. A little surprised maybe, but certainly not worried."

"You've been following her around like a Mabari pup all day," Duncan said. "I wouldn't get too smitten if I were you. I've heard that rusty knives can be quite painful."

"I have not - !" Alistair began to protest. Then he narrowed his eyes, "This is payback for the jokes, isn't it?"

"I have no idea what you mean," Duncan replied, dryly. He stood up and stretched, "I'm going to get some sleep now. And I advise that you do too. You'll need it."

"Duncan," Alistair reached up to catch the older man's arm. "Wait."

Duncan sat back down and looked at Alistair. His expression had changed. Now his face was soft, patient, kind and Alistair wondered if he deserved any of it. He never had before now.

"You had another dream, didn't you?" Alistair said, and was surprised at how easily the sentence came out. "That's why you're awake."

It was a statement, not a question. Alistair already knew the answer.

"Alistair," Duncan's voice was deep, understanding. "You mourn this more than you should. I know it must be difficult for you to accept, but this comes to all of us. It has always been the way for Grey Wardens."

The camp was so quiet now. Alistair wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but there was no sleep-movement, no footsteps, no barking from the Mabari hounds. Just the crackle of the fire an Duncan's expectant silence. Even in the Chantry he had never felt so alone.

He wrestled with words through his head. What was he suppose to say? That he wished he could repay Duncan for saving him? That no other person had treated him the way he did? That Duncan was like - well, that Duncan practically_ was_ - No. He couldn't say that. It sounded selfish, and Duncan couldn't think of him as selfish.

"It just seems so unfair," Alistair finally said, lamely. "You're not even that old."

"I was young when I joined," Duncan replied. "And many haven't been as lucky as me. But I understand. You don't want me to die."

Alistair opened his mouth to deny it, then quickly shut it again.

"No one lives forever, Alistair," Duncan continued. "And I would prefer to die like this, in battle, than to die without meaning or purpose. I've spend most of my life fighting Darkspawn. Don't you think it's fitting that it's the way it will end for me too? I'm not a person to still around and wait for death. You know that."

"I - " Alistair cast his eyes towards the sky, trying to ignore the heat prickling behind them. Grey clouds blocked out the stars. Typical.

Duncan patted him on the shoulder. "You will come to understand," he said, "In time."

"I just - " Alistair began, shakily looking back at Duncan's face. "I know it's silly. But I wish I could stop it somehow."

"It's a noble thought," Duncan said. "But I've never really been one for noble thoughts. And it's unnecessary. You're going to be needed in the future. I've had my time."

"Don't say that," Alistair replied, mournfully. "I don't think I'll ever be anything like you."

Duncan stood up. "Get some sleep," he said. "You'll feel better. And I've got a few more months left yet. Maybe you'll see it differently when this is all over."

"Perhaps," Alistair replied, staring straight forwards. "Perhaps."

"Go on," Duncan said, nudging his leg with a boot. "You've got an elf to wake in the morning."

"That should be your job," Alistair mutter, clambering to his feet. He shook out the stiffness from his legs. "She might have that rusty knife nearby."

They walked back to their bedrolls together, in silence. Despite Duncan's words, Alistair didn't feel any better at all.


End file.
